Silent Night
by rockstadius
Summary: During their seventh year at Hogwarts young witches and wizards are to choose what to do with their lives. But how are you going to choose, when you barely know yourself? Starting at Christmas this story explores the beginning of the end of an era - choices, kisses, long lost wishes. Some degree of James/Lily smut may occur later in the story.
1. Chapter 1

"... and James, he's been so distant since Christmas last year, and now we're all going home for the holidays and no pranks have been pulled since September, if you don't count that deal with the confused toads, but that was mostly an accident and not very funny. It's been all about James' flashy tricks to get that girl. Yet no one really gets why that Evans prude doesn't get together with him. I mean, he's the Gryffindor keeper, he's kind of pretty for a boy, he's rich, pure blood -"

"I thought we'd already had this conversation before, but sure, let's talk it through again. I think I understand the situation", Remus calmly stated and put aside his Herbology textbook, having carefully placed a quill as a bookmark, "but I understand why you wouldn't."

"No one gets why he's so obsessed with her anyways", Peter sulked, idly picking at his afternoon snack of pickled onions. "She's a mud- muggle born, and she isn't even that pretty. Like a plank. And those eyes are creepy. Don't tell him I said that."

"I'm going to ignore your derogatory words this time", Remus started, having cringed at the M-word, "but I think it all goes back to her resenting him so openly, and maybe on-"

Remus seemed to change his mind, and continued:

"Either way, he's got every right to like anyone he likes. You've heard his arguments in the case more times than Dumbledore has found uses for dragon blood."

"I just wish he wasn't so obsessed, Moony. It's been awfully quiet when it comes to the mischievous side lately, and I don't like this chatty side of James."

"And I who thought you'd be relieved", Remus chuckled, "but maybe you're not a scared little _rat_ like that at all. As to the talking, maybe you need to let your gums rest. He's been sort of quiet these past few days, though."

"I haven't noticed anything. Hey, do you happen to have that Charms essay due tomorrow lying around here somewhere? Just a quick glance to get me going."

. . .

The Hogwarts castle was going through the annual yet ceaselessly amazing transformation to Christmas as the first snow descended over the highlands. The freshly appointed, over-excited Charms professor, Flitwick, had beaten his predecessor by miles; mistletoe had sprouted in every crack and nook of the walls; floating candles rained gold glitter over the students as they desperately tried to finish essays due before the holidays; even professor Binns had, probably unbeknownst to the extremely slow and old man, received a yuletide bow around his neck. Peeves, as expected, shouted obscene versions of the carols the rest of the ghosts solemnly took every opportunity to perform. It was far more festive than the students had seen it ever before, as to make up for the turn for the worse outside of Hogwarts' protective walls of spells. Rumour had it another family had disappeared, and it was not very surprising that an unpredecented number of students were going home for Christmas. Not all, however.

The redhead girl sunk into a dusty tome on the bench by the main doors shuddered as a gust of snowy air blew over her.

"Evans, ain't it? Ye figure ye could give me a hand with these?" came a roar from something that appeared to be a snow-sprinkled grizzly bear, but in fact was one frostbitten Hagrid, dragging a gigantic spruce through the doors.

"Oh, certainly", Lily replied uncertainly, forcing the book on wandlore into her already crammed bag.

"It's not far, but I didnae want ter bother the staff, they're having Slughorn's eggno- I mean, having a, a meeting about the-"

"I won't tell."

"So, you're going home to yer parents like always?"

"No, I-"

Lily bit her lip, sighed, and continued quietly:

"I don't have much of a home left, actually. My father died four years ago, and my sister, well, she- she never really- and I don't think my mother would-"

"Of course she'd like you to come over!"

"We agreed that it's Petunia's turn this year. She's bringing her fiancé over. It's easier if I stay. And I have to study for my NEWTs."

"Christmas at Hogwarts won't let you down, Evans," Hagrid said and gave her an encouraging tap on her back, almost tipping her off balance.

"Ah, Hagrid, here comes the tree," came the enthusiastic voice of professor Flitwick, already waving his wand in excitement.

. . .

There was indeed a lot of work to finish before the holidays, and seventh year students in especial had no rest. The over-crowded library lay in an almost spiritual silence and the usually loud common rooms were eerily quiet, save for the scraping of quills. One young man, however, who could not be found in either, was James Potter, as he currently sat on his bed mending his gear, mentally preparing for the game against Hufflepuff in February, but constantly getting distracted by a memory of a certain smell, a slither of red, or the anger in piercingly green eyes from years back. It felt so weird that he now, when he least expected, had received a small note with just one word in that charmingly disorderly handwriting. He hadn't even tried to change anything about himself, Merlin, he had not even spoken to her in private for over a month. And now, that one word reply to his countless tries, that simple word on a scrap of parchment, etched into his brain -

_Maybe?_

"James? You want anything from the kitchen?"

The scruffy hair of one dark young man appeared in the doorway to the dormitory.

"You know, it being the last evening here before the holidays; us about to finish our education, join the fight against You-Know-Who? One last time of pretending we've just learnt to pick locks and to use your father's old cloak?"

"Nah, Sirius, I - I think I'll stay. I need to, um, study, and, uh, tutor-"

"Stay here fondling your broom? No innuendo intended. I know where the kitchens are."

"No, I mean- stay over Christmas."

"And leave me with your mom's cooking?"

"I didn't think about that", James said, nervously fidgeting with his hands.

"You're hiding something, Jamie-bro".

"Am not."

"Oh yes you are. You wouldn't miss Christmas at the Potters for anything else than-"

"Fine, don't make a big deal and please don't tell Moony and Wormtail, I'm in enough trouble with them over her as it is; but yes, it is about Lily Evans."

"She's said yes, has she? What did you do this time, write a song? Impersonated those bugs she listens to?"

"No", James said, thinking about the muggle music he secretly had acquired to understand Lily's world better, "it's nothing like that. I did nothing. Absolutely nothing. You remember at Halloween, when I asked her to go to the Slug club with me? I mean we're still usually both there- Anyways, she now replied, by owl, just with a simple little _maybe."_

"Maybe, eh?"

"I have no idea what to make of it!"

James cast a glance at his best friend, who, very fleetingly looked angry - but as that realization struck James, Sirius already looked his half-excited laid back, sleek self, and absent-mindedly rolled the sorry excuse for a moustache that grew beneath his nose. James, on the other hand, had to shave every morning, and was already sporting a handsome stubble as the clock was nearing seven.

"Well, brother-o-mine, I think you should perhaps ask her what to make of it. I mean, you've been all about grand romantic gestures so far, to no end, and whilst I usually would tell anyone to just sweep a girl off her feet, I think- Well, Lily Evans seems like the kind of girl you want to marry, not just snog, James."

"I- I don't know, Sirius. I guess I've been sort of obsessively stalking her for so long that I- I don't think I actually know her that well."

"Couldn't have put it better myself - But you have feelings for her, right?"

"Yes, but they're different than before. You know."

Sirius gave a laugh that sounded more like a bark.

"James, I have no idea! I've never _loved _a girl like you!"

"Oh, so I'm a girl now? And who said I love her?I just said I barely even know her!"

"Well, then you just have to start to get to know her. It's that simple. She likes chocolate frogs."

"I know that", James sighed, tucking his broom under the bed, "I know a lot of things about her, it's just - I don't know _her."_

* * *

Author's note:

Hello! This is a sort of new story I'm working on. It was supposed to become some very adults-only-mature smut, but I decided to keep it inside the guidelines for the site, and to just work out where it goes from here. This chapter is arguably very short, but if you like it, I'll keep it going. Hope you like it!


	2. Chapter 2

2.

The light snowfall of the previous night had turned into a blizzard during the night, and to the delight of the residents at Hogwarts castle, abruptly stopped at nine in the morning, leaving the ground shrouded in white and the sky clear. The gingerbread miniature that the school's art society had made could not have been more accurate, well, except if it was still whole.

It was December the twentieth, and time to get to the train for those going home. Though no classes were given on the subject, some students were carrying parcels with self-made gifts for their parents and relatives; far more, however, had taken the previous visist to Hogsmeade as an opportunity to shop for gifts. The visit, however, had been cut short because of yet another attack; though it resulted in no casualties, the school direction had deemed all visits from there on cancelled.

"I can't believe I'm not going home", James hissed at Sirius, who was still munching on his over-sized late breakfast.

"I haven't gone home for Christmas once, you know. You'll like it here. Dumbledore got us all presents two years ago. I got a green rubber duck."

"But I still haven't spoken to-"

A group of third-year students, mostly Hufflepuffs, passed close by the door to the Great Hall, carrying bags. Their trunks hovered a few paces behind.

"Her. About."

"I thought you waited for her in the common room all night yesterday?"

"I tried, I just guess I fell asleep before she got back. Wonder where she was."

"Maybe she's up to something. But, wait - so you don't know if she's staying, even?"

"No, I don't", James replied grimly, "but I did tell my mom through the fireplace that I'd be staying. She seemed happy about it, and said she'd planned on celebrating with old Bathilda instead."

"Over in Godric's Hollow? That'll be a blast."

"I guess", James absent-mindedly murmured and turned his attention to the Prophet spread out on the table.

"Are you sure Evans isn't going home for the holidays," Sirius asked.

"Once again, no."

"HEY EVANS! POTTER WANTS TO KNOW IF YOU'RE GOING TO YOUR MUGGLES FOR CHRISTMAS!"

"Sirius Black, if you call my family muggles once more I'll hex you," came an angry shout back, "And tell Potter that if he wants to know he'll have to ask himself."

James got up very quickly, and ran to the doors of the main hall, where one Lily Evans waited. She seemed ready, yet not eager, to go.

"You're going."

"I was planning that way, yes. My mother has been sickly as of late, and my sister is bringing her man over. They're getting married soon."

"I understand. You should, um, you should take care."

"I will. Merry Christmas, Potter."

"Merry Christmas, Evans", James replied, and turned to return to Sirius, who against better judgement whistled at him.

"You know, Potter, I was hoping you'd try to convince me not to go", came her voice behind him, almost lost in the sea of scurrying students, the Gryffindors of which most wished their Head Boy and Head Girl happy holidays.

"Lily, what did you say?"

"Nothing, I-"

"Please stay. We're- I'm staying."

"I've already packed," she argued, but a smile was taking over her eyes.

"I'll help you unpack?"

"Cheesy, Potter."

"Call me James", James said weakly for the umpteenth time.

...

Not very far away from the blushing and extremely awkward duo Evans and Potter another couple, these two both boys, spoke in low voices. The taller, lankier one leaned one arm on the rail of the marble staircase, whilst the shorter sat on his trunk, catching his breath after the long descent from Gryffindor tower. The entrance hall was buzzing with goodbyes and last-minute checks by the prefects that the first-years all were wearing appropriate winter clothes for the ride home.

"Are you sure you're going home?"

"Yes, Remus, I am", Peter sighed, and tapped his pockets to check he had his wand. "I- I already promised ma and pa to go, of course I would like to stay, but-"

"It's your last chance to get the Hogwarts-Christmas-experience, this time with the added bonus of me getting ill on the 25th", Remus joked.

"I can't, I'd get in trouble with my parents."

"Suit yourself. I think Padfoot and Prongs are in there", Remus said and nodded towards the doors to the Great Hall, "James had a bit of a long night. Funny how no one thought of giving _him_ a moustache in ink."

"It wasn't my idea," Peter said.

"It never is, is it. Happy Christmas, and all my love to your parents."

One rather bewildered Horace Slughorn passed Remus on the staircase, and in a rather exasperated voice bellowed over the students:

"The carriages to Hogsmeade station are off in four minutes! Get on with it, boys and girls! And a merry Christmas to you all, too", he added in a rather annoyed tone as the heap slowly streamed out.

Peter, however, pushed through in the wrong direction. He'd always been pretty good at moving through crowds. As he got to the doors he placed his trunk against the wall, making sure none of those Deatheater wannabes noticed, and slunk inside, scanning the mostly empty, magnificent room for two messy heads of dark hair.

"Sorry, Pettigrew, no luck", a young boy Peter had a vague memory was called Diggle, squeaked, "Potter and Black already went!"

"Oh, okay. Merry Christmas to you then," Peter replied, suddenly feeling even less happy about going home.

...

Life doesn't work around cheesy one-liners, and though James wished something, be it anything, could have excused him, he at the same time wished desperately to not have to turn his eyes from Lily. As seconds passed a sense of alarm started rising with a blush, however. What are you supposed to say once you've walked all the way up to Gryffindor tower in silence?

"I uh, I waited for you last night, to ask you about the um."

Somehow the words didn't come out quite as planned. Lily did not seem bothered, but rather - what was that look - confused?

"I didn't come down after dinner. Sorry."

"What were you doing? Fluttershy."

The Fat Lady swung aside with a curious glance at the boy and girl as they entered, Lily dragging her trunk single-handedly. James had tried to help her with it, but had instead been trusted with the enormous bag of books Lily had been carrying on her shoulder.

"Just stuff. Thinking, mostly."

"Happy thoughts, I hope?"

Lily snorted as she pu down the trunk against the wall.

"I wish. It's- God damn it, why do I have to feel so alone? I mean I'm even talking to you! You! And it doesn't even bother me to admit it!"

James slumped down on one of the stuffed chairs in front of the fireplace.

"Admit what? That you're so lonely you'll even talk to the guy who's been obsessed with you for years?"

"Yes! I'm so alone, I don't even care what people think. Not that there's almost anyone here anymore, what with the war, and well, Christmas. I just need someone to talk with, anyone."

James sighed, and closed his eyes, trying to ignore that he felt as if a ghost had just passe through him. When he spoke, he tried to choose his words very carefully but at the same time felt as if he had no control of his tongue.

"Well, I honestly am not as upset to hear that I'm your last choice as I would have been a year ago."

"That's not what I meant," she replied quietly.

"I'm mostly sad to hear you're feeling lonely. I thought you had a lot of friends, Merlin, I even thought you might be dating one of them because you were so disinterested in me."

Lily sat down as well, two chairs away from James, and held out her pale hands towards the fire to warm them.

"I still have some of them, it's just that they're not interested in the same things as I anymore."

"What kind of things are you interested in then, Lily?"

"The resistance. Helping. Creating. Hope."

James gave a light chuckle and fleetingly met her eyes.

"All the right things, it seems."

"So you're joining? Once you get out of here?"

"We're all joining; Pad-Sirius, Remus, Peter and I."

"You can call them by your funny names around me, _Prong"._

James raised his eyebrows.

"What," she demanded.

"Good, I was afraid you- I wouldn't find it strange if you did, but still."

"If I what?"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. And uh, it's _Prongs, _not Prong."

"You mean like on a fork? Where's that come from?"

"My hair", James stated with a straight face.

"You're more entertaining than I recalled."

"Thank you, milady. But please tell me, what is it really that upsets you?"

Lily leaned back in her chair.

"Fine, you be the psychiatrist then. But I am judging you if you start yawning."

"Bring it on."

"I still can't quite believe I'm telling _you _this, it's all kinds of wrong, but- Well, I kind of told my family about you last summer, and my sister was there, and she overheard the words 'rich heir' and 'tall' and 'into sports' and this all made her quite angry at me for having lured a man before her - I did say that we weren't together multiple times - and not two months later she announces she's going to move together with this fellow Dursley that she met as an intern, and that he's buying them a house with drill money! Not that he's particularly rich, and definitely not ito sports, and not very tall either."

"I didn't know you have a sister."

"Petunia, she's older than me, and non-magical."

"Is that common? Being magical if yor siblings aren't?"

Lily stared into the fire, and very slowly said:

"My sister is blonde and has blue eyes. My mother is blonde and has blue eyes. My father, may he rest in peace, was blond with blue eyes, though my sister does not know this."

"I see."

"And to answer your question; no, it is not."

"And this Dursley man? Is he a muggle?"

"Yes. She's written a bit about him, and I don't think he'd like me much."

Lily sighed. James opened his mouth as to ask a question; then changed his mind; thought for a while, and asked:

"Does he know?"

"She wrote that she would tell him, and that she doesn't want me to be her maid of honour in case it upsets him."

"That doesn't sound like a healthy relationship to me. If I were marrying, say, you, you could have Snivellus for yours for all I care."

"Don't use that name for him."

"Alright. I've been a bit childish when it comes to him, havn't I? Maybe I should apologize. But you have to admit it's pretty descriptive, right? It somehow oozes of greasy hair and arched noses."

"I suppose it does", Lily replied with a small laugh after a two-second pause.

* * *

Author's note:

I guess I'm keeping the chapters short and dialogue-focused for now. Hope you like it! I noticed there was already one follow, which made me super happy and inspired!  
If anyone has problems with my characterization, let me know kindly. There may be a few, uh, chronological discrepancies here and there - what with parents' deaths and Petunia getting married, so I hope you'll forgive me~


	3. Chapter 3

3.

Blowing on his fingers to keep them warm, the dark young man ascended the stairs to the owlery. He was not wearing his winter cape mostly because he couldn't bother digging through his trunk, and partly because he was pretty sure he had splashed a bottle of invisible ink all over it. Though the ink stayed invisible for a solid two months according to the bottle, he wasn't quite sure if he wanted to see what it looked like half a year later.

The owls of the owlery eyed him suspiciously as he entered the room at the top of the tower, and hooted disapprovingly as he crumpled his nose at the smell.

"Take it easy, I'm not here to send anyone a toilet seat today, alright."

The owls remained tense.

"I'm looking for a bird to take a message to my family. Yes, my wretched mother may spew curses at you. Yes, it is in London, and no, it is not urgent."

Almost in unison the school owls backed into their coups.

"Look, there's some mice in it. And I brought toast."

One rather small horned owl cocked its head in mild interest at the last word. The boy let the owl nibble at the dry bread; not much later it let him tie the letter, sealed with a black crest.

"Uh, now- I meant that about my mother. Just deliver it to the house of black, and then get back here. Don't wait for a reply; don't even wait for her to see the crest. I'm sorry in advance", said the boy.

The owl took off, spreading its magnificent wings as it dropped out of sight. Sirius didn't even try to follow its flight, still conflicted about whether sending the Merry Christmas-wishes had been a good idea or not.

. . .

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything", came a familiar voice behind James.

"Remus! Seems it's mostly the old gang staying, eh? Peter hiding behind you?

Remus nodded politely at Lily and sat down between her and James.

"No, Peter, as I think he probably told you, went home for Christmas."

"Ah, right. He didn't say goodbye to us. Me and Sirius, I mean."

The three of them sat a while in silence, looking into the crackling fire.

"I should probably-" they all started simultaneously; paused, and let Lily continue:

"-get going. I need to, um-"

"I need to go pack some presents", Remus said sternly, and winked at James, who in turn blushed.

"I think we need to, uh, do some head boy and girl... stuff."

"So smooth, Prongs", Remus laughed, "but seriously, I _clearly _interrupted _something_ here."

_You will tell me more tonight, _he mimed at James, and before either of the two had time to protest, got up and dramatically stretched.

"D'you know where Sirius is?"

"I have no idea, I thought he was with you. You can _check_ later, can't you? Besides, in the seven years I've known Sirius, he has missed dinner exactly three times; two of those while unconscious."

. . .

"I should probably go", Lily said quietly after Remus had left the common room, careful not to meet James' eyes. The wristwatch under James' sweater neared six, and dinner would soon be served. In a strange way the first dinner without the rest of the students was always the most interesting, and also cosy.

"Lily, I- I want you to know that you can always talk to me. Yes, I am a bit disappointed that you aren't interested in me-"  
"I never said that."

"- but I genuinely want to get to know you rather than be childishly sweet on you. Wait, what?"

"I never said I wasn't interested in you."

James leaned towards her in his chair, eyebrows arched above the glasses.

"Are you?"

"Maybe a tiny bit? I don't know."

Lily pursed her lips together to cover a smile.

"Alrighty, then, Evans", said James and leaned back, "I won't push you on the matter. How about some supper?"


End file.
